


Invidia (Aroused by Envy)

by Violette_Pleasures



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: (I never really write with a specific age in mind so knock yourself out), Choking, Consensual Kink, Daddy Kink, Dom Tony Stark, Dom/sub Undertones, Flirting, Idiots in Love, It's a game they play, Jealousy, M/M, Peter is 17-19, Peter is a Little Shit, Possessive Behavior, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sub Peter Parker, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 02:06:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15160046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violette_Pleasures/pseuds/Violette_Pleasures
Summary: Peter finally gets to meet Thor at a little gathering and they hit it off. Maybe too well, in Tony's opinion, so he decides to remind Peter just who he belongs to.





	Invidia (Aroused by Envy)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Back with a little Starker this time nvn This was a prompt I got over on Tumblr and it took me a minute to work out because I usually think fluff in terms of Starker? But I'm still happy with this and kinda proud of it?? (I apologize if you know me for my fluffier Starker works and were expecting more of that nvn;)

Tony's been watching Peter all night. Usually, he wouldn't be so obvious about it, but the circumstances call for it, as far as he's concerned. He knows he shouldn't be so blatant about what he's doing, knows he should be paying more attention to the pretty, perfumed (and more age appropriate) women flirting with him, laying lacquered-shine nailed fingers on his forearm, but when he sees Peter do the same thing to Thor, touch a large bicep barely contained by a velvet suit jacket, he can't stop the jealousy that rears its ugly head up inside him.

 

Logically, he knows Peter is his, has proven that to him over and over again through words, confessions mumbled wet and shaking into an Armani suit, I love yous whispered as devout as prayers into silk pillow cases, and actions, stepping in front of Tony to protect him even if he was already in his iron armor, a touch so light to his hand, cheek, beard that he isn't sure it happened. But he also knows how Peter feels about Thor.

 

Thor is Peter's other older man, Avenger, childhood crush. Peter hadn't wanted to admit it at first, but with all the comments and impressions of the Norse god Tony had seen through the baby monitor footage, (of course he teasingly presented all this to Peter as evidence) the teen had reluctantly admitted that he had a thing for Thor once, but assured, rushed and voice vibrating with nerves, Tony that he loved him and no one else.

 

Tony knew all of this but still...

 

He threw back the last of his scotch and resigned himself to chatting up other philanthropists and a few members from some non-profits and pointedly did not look at Peter for the rest of the evening. He knew if he did, he might cause a scene; he was right at that point, one drink away from going home with a complete stranger or throwing a punch and starting a brawl. He made sure his next drink was water with lemon.

 

 

~

 

“Is everything okay, Mr. Stark? You seem...kinda on edge.” Adorable eyebrows scrunched together in concern, the shallowest of creases forming between them.

 

Tony reached up to thumb the crease away, as if he could erase the worry with a simple touch. “It's nothing, kid. Don't worry about it.”

 

Peter let out a little dissatisfied grumble, not buying what Tony was telling him. He followed along behind Tony on the way to their room and he could feel his eyes burning into his back and the anxiety rolling off him in waves.

 

Once inside, Peter pulled off his suit jacket and laid it across the chaise lounge at the foot of the bed, sitting with a sigh to take off his shoes, the patent leather gleaming in the low lamp light. They'd dressed similarly that night, three piece suits, bespoke and in complimenting colors, a deep red suit and black button up for Peter and a rich navy suit and white button up for Tony. Tony watched each movement, nimble fingers fiddling with buttons and laces, revealing delicately arched feet, slender wrists, as he started unclasping his cuff links.

 

“So, were you happy to finally meet Thor tonight? Seemed like you guys really hit it off.” He wanted to shove his own fist down his throat for how unsure that statement lightly disguised as polite conversation sounded.

 

“Yeah!” The teen's eyes sparkled when he looked up at Tony, pulling his socks off and tucking them inside his shoes. “He's really great! Like, wow, the whole lightening powers thing is pretty cool and then,” Peter trails off for a second, eyes glazing over, “he's just...really cool. I didn't expect that, I guess. I was thinking something more like...”

 

“Shakespeare in the park?” Tony quipped with one of his signature sarcastic smiles.

 

Peter snorted and smiled brightly, seemingly unfazed by or ignoring Tony's sour mood. “Yeah, I think that's what I was expecting. But he's not like that at all. He's really chill.” He studied Tony for another moment before that smile grew into something more impish and mischievous. He stood and walked over, tracing a fingertip up the center of Tony's waistcoat and looking coquettishly through his lashes. “Wait...Mr. Stark, you're not jealous are you?”

 

“Kid, I don't do jealousy. Jealousy is for high schoolers and preteen dramas.” Tony rolled his eyes, allowing Peter to keep touching him, letting him start undoing the buttons.

 

“You are...”Peter said softly, almost a kitten of a purr. His cheeks flushed a fetching shade of red as he bit his lip to contain a rather pleased looking smile. “To think, little ole me, Peter Parker from Queens...” He glanced up at Tony, brown eyes even darker with want, and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him closer so he could whisper in his ear. “...a little piece of jailbait with daddy issues and an oral fixation could make _the_ Tony Stark jealous.”

 

Tony felt his heart rate steadily climbing, blood rushing through his veins all headed straight below the belt, as soft, soft lips caressed his ear lobe and filled his ear with filth. Usually, Peter wasn't this forward, almost always too shy to take the lead, so when it happened, it was a rare and welcome treat.

 

“Did it make you jealous when I touched his arm, Daddy?” Small teeth attached themselves to Tony's earlobe and tugged and sucked at it while Peter kept breathing words into his heated skin. “Or, did it make you jealous when he made me smile? I know how much you hate it when—”

 

With a growl, Tony threaded his fingers into Peter's hair and yanked his head away from the crook of his neck. Peter gasped and clung to his button down to keep from being thrown off balance. He stared the other down, eyes flitting over every little tick and minute movement of muscle; Peter looked surprised at Tony's sudden roughness. Good.

 

“Did you like making Daddy jealous?” Tony bent and ran the tip of his nose along Peter's jaw, using his grip on his auburn curls to control his head. “Is that what you were trying to do, baby boy? Were you trying to upset me so I'd have to remind you who's in charge here?”

 

A quiet whimper from Peter followed up by a slight nod confirmed Tony's suspicions. “I'm sorry, Daddy...”

 

“No you're not.” Tony cut him off with a harsh, dark tone, the one that never failed to turn Peter into an absolute, wet, needy mess. “But you will be.”

 

“W-what're you gonna do?” If Tony didn't know any better, he might have thought Peter was actually worried. The kid was a hell of an actor, which was perfect for all of the fantasies Tony wanted and did play out with him.

 

“Does it matter?” He leaned in and licked along the fullest part of the boy's bottom lip at a savoring pace. “I don't think after the fact is the time to worry about consequences is it, angel?”

 

“No.” A firm swat to Peter's ass made him draw in a sharp breath.

 

“ 'No' what, Peter?” Tony looked down the bridge of his nose at Peter, asserting himself over him.

 

“N-no, sir.” The pitch of the teen's voice was endearing, sweetly wavering and meek, submissive.

 

“Very nice.” Tony praised before relinquishing his grip on Peter's hair only to lift him up and roughly toss him onto the bed. The look on Peter's face was one of aroused shock as his small body bounced on the feathery mattress. Tony was on the teen before he could right himself, activating the collapsible watch gauntlet and hovering over him, using it to pin his wrists above his head. “That's better.”

 

For a long moment, he didn't do anything, just sat waiting, letting the moment stretch and dip and bend as time slowly drug out into the vast eternity, making a gap of a few inches between their bodies feel like an unfathomable chasm. The silence poured down around them, drenching the room and weighing them down until Peter's patience wore thin and he began to squirm.

 

“Mr. Stark?” Tony still held back, not speaking, not touching Peter. “Please?” Peter whined, wiggling his hips from side to side. “Please do something? Anything. Just...touch me, please?”

 

Wordlessly, Tony slid a hand up Peter's torso, over ribs and hard plains of muscle, coming to rest over his throat. He'd never done this to Peter before, always staying as gentle and “vanilla” as possible, but he had craved it from the start. His fingers tightened incrementally, watching Peter's eyes for any sign of fear or discomfort, but saw none, noticed instead how Peter lifted his chin minutely to let him get a better grip, let the heel of his palm settle into the hollow of his throat.

 

“Is this what you wanted, baby?” Testing the waters, he squeezed, feeling Peter's pulse thrumming beneath his fingers. Peter's mouth popped open on a silent gasp, cheeks turning rosy as his eyes flickered back and forth between Tony's. “Is this what you needed?”

 

“Yes.” He held Tony's gaze and then let his eyes fall shut, giving over to him entirely. Tony hadn't felt this wonderful, sick kind of thrill in a long time, not since he first took flight in the mark two, but here and now with this boy so vibrantly full and pulsing with life beneath him giving him his neck, exposing the tender places, and trusting him completely, the heady rush beat a course through every nerve and vein.

 

Flashes of Peter smiling and talking to Thor earlier that evening came unbidden to Tony's mind and he tightened his hold that much more, feeling the fine bones of slender wrists grinding together, seeing the exact moment Peter felt uncomfortable, when his throat became too tight to breathe easily. The scary part was how satisfying it was; knowing how strong Peter was, what he was capable of, and knowing that all of this hinged on Peter's complacency to be weak and allow Tony to treat him this way, was intoxicating to say the least. Some manic, malicious part of him wanted to hurt Peter, hurt him so good, so right, that he'd never even think about looking at anyone but Tony ever again.

 

“Who do you belong to?” In a sudden flare of rekindled possessiveness, Tony used his knees to roughly push Peter's legs apart, alighting himself between slender thighs, finally letting his full weight come to rest down on the teen. Now there was no space left between them, each word he spoke was on shared breath, one labored, one even, lips brushing in what could be a kiss if he were feeling more generous. “Tell me—Who. Do. You. Belong. To?”

 

“Y-you...Daddy.” Peter said, voice raspy in a way Tony had never heard, but had him grinding his hardness into the cradle of his hips. “...o-only you.”

 

“That's right, you're _mine_.” Tony released Peter's throat and kissed him hard. He wasted no time slipping his tongue between his lips, licking along the roof of his mouth, biting his lips aggressively, not stopping until the sharp, metallic taste of blood coated the tip of his tongue. When he pulled back and looked down at Peter, he felt a dark pleasure curling low in his gut seeing Peter's watery eyes looking back at him, just as full of lust as they were with tears.

 

“Yours, Daddy.” Peter's lip trembled, voice quavering, and swallowed hard. He looked so perfect like that. Even when Tony released his wrists to sit back on his heels, he didn't dare move an inch, leaving his arms submissively above his head.

 

Tony grabbed Peter's shirt and rended it in two, threads tearing, buttons popping and getting lost in the folds of the comforter. Peter's eyes went wide as the black fabric was yanked forcefully from him, going complacently with the motions, as Tony removed the rest of his clothing just as viciously.

 

Once he finally uncovered his prize, Tony sat back to admire Peter's lithe figure, cock full and laying against his stomach, and beautiful milky skin that had him itching to leave bruises that he knew would fade all over. He wondered how hard he would have to hold him, bite, suck to leave marks that would last.

 

Feeling himself growing harder by the second, Tony hurriedly grabbed the lube from the drawer in the bedside table and squirted a large glob onto his palm. He took Peter's length in hand, moving slippery hand over hand, metallic, organic, metallic, organic, from base to tip making Peter shy away from his touch and keen loudly.

 

“Uh-uh, no moving away...you stay right here.” Tony gripped Peter's hip and pushed him down into the bed with the gauntlet, leaving a slick hand print behind. He moved his hand faster, trying to work Peter to a fast and dirty orgasm, something unsatisfying that would leave him wanting more. He held firm around the boy's length, cupping his gloved hand around the head and circling his wrist, rubbing him in a way he knew Peter found overstimulating.

 

Seconds later, Peter's back was arching magnificently off the bed and he was coming hard as he cried out. His body shuddered as Tony continued to milk his orgasm from him, pearly cum dripping from hot rod-red metal.

 

Cries of pleasure soon turned to whimpers when he didn't stop circling his palm on the tip of Peter's cock. Peter grit his teeth, trying to take it, trying not to move away, trying so hard to be good for Tony. Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes as he reached his limit. “Mr. Stark, p-please! I can't—hnn! No more...”

 

“There you go, baby boy...let it all out.” Tony smiled almost cruelly down at Peter, continuing his slow torture. He waited for a broken sob to work its way up out of the boy's chest like it had been wrenched out by force before he slowed and eventually stopped. He wiped the spend and lube from his hands on the sheets, reaching up to wrap a hand around Peter's throat; this time it was the one with the glove curling tight like a choker around a pale neck. “But we're not done yet, are we?”

 

“Daddy?” This time, the look of unsure curiosity that flickered over Peter's face _was_ genuine. He propped himself up on his elbows, shoulders hunching shyly up around his ears, as he looked up at the older man through his lashes with wide eyes.

 

“Turn over. Face down, ass up, sweetheart.” He waited patiently for Peter to turn over, pressing a button that folded the gauntlet back up into his watch. Tony grabbed at the boy's hips and drug him back with a forceful hand. He ground his still clothed cock against the cleft of Peter's ass, groaning at the stimulation. Slipping his thumbs into the cleft of Peter's ass, he pulled his cheeks apart to expose his entrance, watching it twitch as the cool air caressed it. “Fuck, look at you.”

 

The only response he got from Peter was a low whine and him turning to bashfully hide his face in the blankets. Tony stripped out of the remainder of his suit and briefs and grabbed the lube back up. He wasted no time slicking up and sliding two fingers into Peter. God, the sounds he made, _every_ _damn_ _time_ , were music to his ears.

 

Peter tensed and went soft and malleable at once, unable to keep his joints from locking up as Tony unforgivingly presses right into his prostate, but it feels so good he's spreading his legs wider and pushing back into him. His perfect mouth fell open and his chest expanded in full, grasping at the sheets until they tear like paper, already getting hard again.

 

Tony is momentarily mesmerized by the tight ring of bubblegum pink stretching around his fingers, briefly reminding him (as if he ever truly forgot) that Peter had been a virgin when they first got together. Peter is so warm and wet and tight, just like a fucking girl, and it makes his dick throb. He coated himself in lube and lined up, pressing the head of his cock in just as his fingers slip out, stretching the teen to the limit for that split second. He stilled after those first few inches sunk into inviting warmth, wrapped so snug about him; it felt like Peter was made specifically for his cock.

 

“Mr. Stark...its so—its not...can I have more? Please?” Peter breathed hard through his nose, trying to calm himself and not just greedily and mindlessly push back.

 

“You want all of Daddy's dick, baby boy?” Tony's fingers tightened down on the curve of angular hips, barely barely rocking forward and backward, before jerking Peter back onto his dick, fully seating himself in one, sharp movement. Peter cried out at the sudden intrusion, little hiccupy sobs marking the length of each breath in near perfect time like the tick-tick of a metronome. “That's all of it, angel. Is that what you need?”

 

“Y-yes, fuck,” Peter grit his teeth, body still adjusting. He took a deep breath and Tony could feel his small body going lax beneath and around him. “Yes, Daddy. I want it.”

 

Draping himself over Peter, trying to fit every inch of their bodies together, hand back around his throat, Tony finally started to move. He pulled out till the last few inches then pushed all the way back in, biting and groaning into Peter's shoulder. All Tony could think was heaven. It was absolute _heaven_ to be joined with him like this.

 

“D-does it feel good, Daddy?”

 

It was endearing how badly Peter craved Tony's approval, craved letting him take the reins, craved being dominated, obvious in the way he fought his every instinct to give that part of himself to Tony. And Tony craved that submission just as desperately. He needed it. Which is why he drove himself harder, faster into his baby boy's pliant body, making him moan high and reedy.

 

“Yes, Peter, it feels so good. You feel amazing, so hot and wet for me.” Tony praised openly and earnestly, holding him that much closer.

 

“I want to be your good boy.” Peter murmured under his breath, barely a whisper, pushing back and grinding into Tony's hips, getting him as deep as possible to prove how much he meant what he said.

 

“I know you do, sweetheart.” Tony purred, nuzzling against the shell of Peter's ear. “So do it, come for me.”

 

Making a quiet sound of need, Peter started rolling his hips and squeezing down harder on Tony's length. His body moved like silk in water, graceful and liquid despite all of the older man's weight baring down on him.

 

“Whose hole is this to use? To fill up?” Tony ground out as he latched onto the slope of a strong trap, sucking a dark, purpling mark into fair skin. Marked. Possessed. Owned. He wanted, needed, a visual, an undeniable proof of ownership etched into the boy's skin, even if he knew it would likely be gone by the time Peter had his next orgasm.

 

“You. You. Always you, Tony.” Peter's movements began to falter, growing less fluid and more jerky, a broken stop and go. He reached back and grabbed onto Tony's thigh with one hand, pulling him closer with bruising strength. Tony approved of the idea of himself baring a mark from Peter; now it was unquestionable that they both belonged to someone. “Daddy~! I'm gonna...f-fuck..”

 

Muscles fluttering, limbs shaking, Peter came apart beneath Tony with a hoarse cry that was a blend of Tony's name and some expletive bitten off mid-syllable as he clamped his teeth down on his bottom lip. His hole clenched and fluttered around Tony's length, almost drawing his own orgasm from him, whimpering as the older man continued to fuck him through his climax.

 

The moment Tony felt Peter stop twitching and sucking on his length, orgasm tingling and tickling insistently right at the base of his spine, he pushed the panting, exhausted boy onto his back none too gently and straddled his narrow hips. Peter looked fucked out of his mind and utterly breathtaking before him, all stretched out and delicately pink.

 

A few pumps of his fists, hips fucking brutishly into the funnel he had created, Tony came with a low groan, thick ribbons of cum splattering all over Peter's chest and stomach. As he caught his breath, still stroking the remainder of his release from his pulsing cock, Tony reached down and smeared his spend all over the teen's stomach, rubbing it into his skin and humming satisfied when he was done.

 

“Fuck, Daddy...” Peter huffed a laugh, eyes closed, stretching and luxuriating in the afterglow. He took account of his body, all the new aches and pains and marks that now adorned his used up body before turned bliss glazed eyes to Tony, a dopey, sleepy smile lifting the corners of his mouth and showing of cute shallow dimples. “That was...wow. Just wow.”

 

“Wow, indeed.” Tony teased, leaning in and kissing Peter more sweetly than he had previously.

 

“Maybe I should make you jealous more often.” Peter grinned mischievously, bringing Tony's hand up to bite at his knuckles and fingers playfully.

 

“Don't even think about it.” Tony pulled his hand away and swatted Peter's ass firmly, pink finger marks blooming on a tender thigh. “You couldn't handle it.”

 

“Oh really? Is that a challenge?” Heaving himself upwards with what seemed like a lot of effort, Peter slung a leg over Tony's hips, seating himself right over his softening cock. He placed a hand on either side of the arc reactor and started rolling his hips languidly. “I think maybe you couldn't handle it, old man.”

 

“You're done for, little boy.” Tony growled, surging up and kissing Peter hard.

 


End file.
